What Have We Done?
by BillCipherstitskin
Summary: A simple one night stand leaves England pregnant, and how can the other nations not know? And just what will become of the child? I suck at summaries, M for Mpreg, cussing, suggestive themes, and other m rated stuff but me and my Beta will warn you :). Pairings: USUK, slight Rochu (in first chapter) and Fracan.
1. intro and month 1

_It's about time for a sad fic :( I had this as a dream a few nights ago, got up and was like "Aw! I hate my mind for giving me such sad dreams!" so here we go. WARNING: Contains Mpreg and sadness._

_England's point of view._

What have we done? It wasn't supposed to be this way, all because of a simple one night stand. I turned over in my bed, the warmth having left it a long time ago and the blanket clinging onto my broken frame was no help either. Moonlight seeped in between the heavy navy curtains, I wasn't even sure if I could survive another night, so I kept a knife by my bed, just in case I have the courage to end this torture-filled life.

One year ago, at a World party,

We, me and the other nations, were having a party over America's house, nothing special, he felt like having a party, so he did. I was on my first beer, trying not to drink too much as to get a hangover in the morning (believe me, I've had plenty of those) and took another swig. Word got around some of the nations that I was gay, and that I had a huge crush on America, of all people. Italy somehow found out, didn't know what to do, so told France, who I had swear to absolute secrecy, and let's say he tried tons of different brands of make-up to hide the black eye I threw at his face! I smirked at the thought, and glanced over at France, who was making out with Canada against a wall.  
>"Get a room!" I yelled at France with a smirk, he only smiled and continued kissing. China lept over the couch next to me, looking around anxiously.<br>"Can I tell you something? Aru?" He whispered feverishly.  
>"What is it?"<br>He jumped and looked behind him before replying in a hushed voice,  
>"Russia keeps following me aru! It's creeping the shit out of me! Aru!" He raised his voice a bit, grabbing onto my shoulders.<br>"Well, I'm not sure what's gotten into ol' commie, but I've no idea what's he's up to."  
>China only nodded and peeked behind him, only to see Russia with his purple aura surrounding hime.<br>"Become one with Mother Russia da?"  
>"AAAAHHH! NO ARU!" China screamed and hid in a bathroom for the rest of the night, with Russia constantly waiting outside the door.<br>" You sure da?"  
>"GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY! ARU!" The Chinese man cried out from behind the door. America jumped onto the couch next to me and pulled me in for a man hug, making me blush uncontrollably.<br>"Hey Iggy! How's it been?" He called out, over the loud music that started to play.  
>"A-America? I've been fine thank you!"<br>He only gave me a look that basically said 'follow me' and he lept off the couch, up to his bedroom. Confused, I had no othe choice but to follow the obnoxious American. He slammed the door shut behind me. By god, by the state of his room you'd think he'd been brought up by a hobo who lived in a dumpster, clothes, food, comics and other things were littered all over the grey carpet and hanging off his bed were all his sheets.  
>"We need to talk."<br>"About what?" I retorted.  
>"Is the rumour true?"<br>"What rumour?"  
>"That you are gay, and you've been crushing over me for years on end. That true?"<br>For once, he was actually serious, with that don't-you-fucking-lie-to-me look in his cyan eyes. I gulped and nodded my head slowly. He only laughed and rolled about on his messy floor.  
>"What!? It's not like it means anything!" I pleaded and turned as red as Spain's tomatoes.<br>"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if I like you romantically or not, yet." He admitted, truthfully. So it wasn't a problem for him? At least that was god to know.  
>"And I'm bi, so I'd be wrong to hate another fellow rainbow, eh?"<br>So he's also bi! Maybe this party wasn't so bad after all! Before I knew it he'd grabbed my waist and planted a kiss on my chapped lips, his breath surprisingly didn't taste like burgers, but rather steak and other red meat.  
>"You taste like beer and tea!" He exclaimed, "I like it!" He slammed his face to mine once again, and he threw me onto his bed.<br>"Better make this last, eh?"

The next day, I had no idea where I was, until I woke in America's bed. He was getting dressed and I noticed that I was completely nude.  
>"W-What happened? After we, oh you know." I groaned and rubbed my back as I searched for my boxers.<br>"Well, in short, we got dressed, went back down, drank more, a few bar fights, make-out sessions at spin the bottle, Russia getting owned by China, yup, you didn't miss out on much."  
>I rubbed my forehead as bile rose in my throat, and I rushed to the bathroom in boxers, puking all over the toilet seat. America followed me in and leaned on the doorframe.<br>"Well, I think those forty-something shots you took may take the blame!" He jeered, in good spirits. I plonked my head on the floor and moaned, everything hurt so much! We could never be together though, as relationships between nations are usually frowned upon, so I decided to break the news.  
>"A-America, y-you know we can n-never be together, right?"<br>The American only slowly nodded sadly.  
>"Yup, sadly." He punched the doorframe in a sudden burst of anger, the wood splintering beneath his merciless knuckles. He saw the shocked and horrified look on my face.<br>"Sorry, jus' had to do that." He pressed his head against the wooden frame. "Why can't our bosses let us have our lives!? We have personal lives too, y'know!" He cried out in anger to the air.

_One week after,_

I puked into the toilet bowl again, though I don't think it was a hangover that caused it. Bloody new year's party, it's only a new year! I wiped the bile from my mouth and went back to the kitchen. Thinking of the worst, I absent-mindedly pulled out my laptop and Googled up symptoms of pregnancy:  
>Morning sickness, I had that,<br>weird cravings, I had grapes with mustard the other day, does that count?  
>Mood swings, I was laughing in a cafe with the Allies, then started crying with my head in my arms,<br>and lastly, it said 'If symptoms occur, take a fucking pregnancy test, dimwit.' I sighed, and got a test from the supermarket, (with all the odd looks I got, I made up an excuse and said it was for my girlfriend) and tested myself. Positive. (Ever heard of DADA? Denial, Anger, Depression, Acceptance?) so I took another, and another, and another, Positive, positive, positive. I cried out in anger, before it sunk in. What have we done? I couldn't let anyone else know about this! But they would eventually notice, with the massive gain in you-know-what, and the monthly World Meetings, they would find out, and I wouldn't hear the end of it! I couldn't tell America, oh no, because if relationships were frowned upon, what about having a _child_ with him! I had no other choice, so mustering up the courage, I picked up the phone.  
>"Hello? Scotland?"<p>

I had my face buried in my hands, crying, in a room at a table across from my brothers; Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. Scotland looked slightly angry, Ireland looked confused, while Wales looked to be a mixture of happiness and pity. Scotland brushed some of his fire-red hair from his eyes.  
>"Aye, who's the father?" He spat. Scotland still hated me, while I was on good terms with Ireland and Wales.<br>"A-America." I sobbed. Fire flashed in his emerald eyes, he hated America with his life.  
>"How dare that sunofabitch fuck you up!" He roared, with a look that showed he was willing to kill the American right there and then.<br>"P-Please don't! I-it was with consent." I stammered, the last two words barely audible. Wales and Ireland shot me a sympathetic look and tried to calm down their brother.  
>"A-Are you going to...abort it?" Wales asked innocently. I shook my head.<br>"Too much g-guilt." I stammered, "I'll h-have it, then g-give it a-away, to adoption." I decided. The celtic nations only looked at each other and nodded. Ireland scratched his mop of ginger hair.  
>"Who's gonna fill in fer ya at the World Meetings though? I can fill in if you want to."<br>"I'll fill in as well." Wales agreed with Ireland. Scotland only nodded once.  
>"Fine, fine, I'll help you too, but don't expect anyone not to find out."<br>I took a gasp, it's a wonder my brothers even bothered trying to help me out!  
>"Oh thank you! Thank you all!"<br>They only shrugged in response.

_Month one,_

My bump was barely noticeable, that is, with a jacket on. The cravings did get worse, with me waking up In the middle of the night craving ice-cream with honey and beef jerky, but oh well, that's the price you pay. I should be getting a kick soon, in the next few months. The phone on my nightstand started to bleep, so I picked it up.  
>"Huh? It's 5 in the morning, who is thi-"<br>"Hi England!"  
>I felt a sudden feeling of dread.<br>"How's it going? You didn't come to the meeting, so Wales came in place for you, said that you were sick or something, so are you okay?"  
>"Oh, um, yes, I'm fine." I then exaggerated a cough, "I'll be fine, just a bit under the weather I suppose."<br>"Okay, that's good, see ya!" America happily ended and hung up. I hung up as well just as the morning light broke through my curtains. I got up and looked outside. Sun, bright, beautiful sun. I smiled softly. Sun this bright wasn't normally seen where I live.

_This'll be a muti-chapter fic, so if I get at least ONE good review, I'll continue. XD Oh well, till next time._


	2. Month 2

_4 reviews!? On the first chapter!? Wow thanks guys! That means so much to me! :D thank you all! And I'm back with more stuff, and this will probably be around 9 or 10 chapters long (extra points for who sees the pattern) and stuff. I may not be writing as much since I've got collage and other life stuff you don't need going on, but for now, enjoy!_

_Month two,_

Second month, and so far, moderately good. The cravings haven't calmed down, chocolate drizzled with honey, still tastes good for some reason, don't ask me why. So that I wouldn't look odd while reading a pregnancy magazine in the supermarket, I just had a look for everything online. Turns out I can't sleep on my back, so that sucks shit. I looked at the time. 1:00am. Fuck! Now's not the time to eat chicken and mustard! I groaned and turned the other way. This is gonna be a very long 9 months.

The calendar seemed to be my very worst enemy at this moment, ticking off the days until it was over. I made my way over to the kitchen and boiled the jug, staring outside at my beautiful city. Everyone seemed to be doing just fine, with brightened my mood a little, though it was very overcast and cloudy outside. The jug hissed as a thin trail of steam erupted from the tip. A bird smacked into my window with a sickening crunch, a pigeon. I opened up my window and picked it up from a small flowerpot filled with herbs, it had a broken wing that looked painful. I had no other choice, leave it to die, or go outside to take it to the vets. I chose the latter.

It cooed softly from the shoebox in the passenger seat next to me, before it let out a small squeak in pain. Good thing the vet's just up the road (literally). At least there was no-one else there in the waiting room. I just simply walked in, popped the box on the counter, and left. Now time to clean the blood off my window.

As soon as I got home, I heard my phone ring out loudly from my room for a few seconds, before it stopped. I rushed up and got a hold of it, 3 missed calls, from America and one from France. The last thing it needed was to talk to that bloody frog! Oh well, I decided to anyway, see what France has been up to, send some blackmail, send some more blackmail, sounds good! I pressed OK and waited for bloody frog to get up.  
>"Angelterre? How are you?"<br>"Listen frog! Why did you call me up!?"  
>Silence greeted me on the other end of the phone, followed by a small sigh.<br>"Mi amour, you don't yet know? Everyone has been worried sick! You haven't turned up to 2 world meetings in a row! Your brothers have been filling in, and say that you'll be sick for a few more months! Please tell me it's not that bad!" France pleaded.  
>I couldn't help, but actually pity the frog, the way he showed genuine concern in his voice.<br>"I-I'm a bit better, if that helps." I said very quietly. He made a little hum on the other end.  
>"That's good to know, get better soon." He stated sadly before hanging up.<br>Was it just me, or was France talking like he actually cared? I just pleaded that he wouldn't decide to pop over for a visit, and see me like this!

I was just beginning to tuck into a chip sandwich with mayo and mustard as someone knocked on the door. I quickly hid my sandwich under an old newspaper and answered the door. Standing there, was France, of all people, looking pretty concerned. I reached for my jacket before he noticed my bump.  
>"May I come in?" He asked politely, but gloomily.<br>"Oh, um, sure." I replied and stepped aside, gesturing him to come in. Now I was really starting to freak out. I could already feel the sweat on my hands and –dare I say it- armpits.  
>"So, France, what'd you come here for?"<br>He leaned in a bit closer, uncomfortably close.  
>"You should see the state America is in right now, he's always stressed out, blaming himself for your sickness, unable to sleep, because he has so much guilt," He bawled and gave me a very tight hug, I swear to god, if he wants' me to get 'better' he better stop crushing my ribs, though I did feel sorry for him, oddly enough.<br>Good thing the door was shut behind me. This just had awkward-situation all over it for me, and why was my shoulder getting wet? Oh, France was crying, poor thing.  
>"I-I'm sorry, seeing him in such a state, it's enough to make a grown man cry. I have a picture for you." He sniffed, handing me a photo, of America. I nearly dropped it, I barely even recognised the once proud man on it. The nation was looking pale, very thin, I would call it anorexic, sunken in eyes, and red, puffy lines under his eyes, he barely had the strength to pick up a pencil. I let a tear trail down my face, while France stared at me, waiting for an answer through the teary veil coating his sapphire eyes.<br>"Th-This can't be him!" I tried to deny it, but denying doesn't help anything.  
>"I-I'm sorry, mi amour, but it's true." He stated.<br>I held the photo tightly until my knuckles turned bone white. I let out a shuddering sigh.  
>"What happened on that night?"<br>I knew that question would come up soon, I couldn't deny that feeling of dread that rose up from my heart to my mouth, spilling out every single content of my entire life. So I said it, I said that we had a stupid one night stand, I said that I feared the worst with me being pregnant, I poured out everything, that I wasn't keeping it, that I never will, and all that guilt, will be mine, and mine only. France didn't look disapproving, or disappointed, he only looked depressed, the tears blurring his intent gaze.  
>"It's your choice, and I will accept that." He murmured quietly, pulling at his sleeves. That's when I noticed it, three long cuts on his left wrist.<br>"France! Are those?" I gasped, staring at those red lines.  
>"Oui, they are what you think they are." He simply stated. "I care for America and Canada too, I may sound strange, but I would protect them with my life, and America's sadness has passed onto Canada too, seeing them sad makes me sad." He sighed, turning away and looking out a window as it began to rain. Not surprisingly. It rains when I cry. But now, I had three people worrying sick about me, and I didn't know what to do.<p>

_So a new chapter will be up soon, rejoice and I promise you ,it won't be as sad as this chapter. I started collage today, though it's very hard for someone with social-phobia XD anyway, we'll meet again._


	3. Month 3

_Hey fullas! Thank you for sticking with me, and here we have another chapter! Yeah, I know, I should be updating instead of mucking around, but well, that's just how I roll! XD anyway all that matters is that I'm back with more updates, so enjoy._

_Month three,_

A brutally annoying sound woke me up, unfortunately. I turned over to my alarm, which for some reason decided to be a real bitch and went off at two am. I grumbled and brought a fist down on the little shit! Hah! Teach that little bugger a lesson! Damn, now I can't get back to sleep. Might as well make the most of it. I reached for my book and turned on a lamp. And decided to read until the morning. At least a GOOD side to this means I get a free book stand, for about another 6 more months. I got about thirty pages through before I fell asleep right in the middle of my book.

The first thing I realised when I woke up, was the slight ruffling of pages beneath my messy hair. I opened my eyes just for a peek, and let's just say that now my book has a massive puddle of dribble right in the middle. I jumped a bit and sat bolt upright sending the innocent book flying over the edge of blue sheets. Rubbing the sleep outta my eyes, I stumbled over to the kitchen, only to see France lying down on the couch biting a nail.  
>"F-France? The fuck are you doing here!?" I yelled at him, though I could only see some of him, with the face of the couch facing the other way.<br>"Shh! Don't you know the meaning of quiet? Can't you see he's sleeping?" France retorted in a hushed whisper. Now I was pissed, doesn't the frog know it's bad manners to bring someone I bet I don't know into my house without my permission!? That's before I stormed over and looked over, to see America curled up next to France, hugging his arm, though I could barely recognise him, he was worse than he was from the photo, through his red shirt I could count his ribs up, his arms were practically twigs, and his cheeks were sunken in with large dark bags around his eyes, with being an unhealthy pale colour, stood out like a scar on the face. He shifted around before holding France tighter, who in return told sweet nothings into his hair.  
>"He's worried sick for you, from the way your brothers described it. He always blamed himself, though we keep telling him it's not his fault. So me and Canada have been looking after him."<br>for the first time, I was speechless. Pity, anger, blame, depression all took their cold grasp onto my heart, leaving me with a bunch of confused emotions. But one basically sums it all up. Emptiness. All this anger and sadness had made me feel nothing. I bit my lip and silently walked over so I was close to America, and stroked his dirty blond hair, letting a tear or two slip onto his glasses. He shifted and opened his cyan eyes, which made me gasp slightly, as they were dull and expressionless, unlike that air of happiness and protection which once gleamed in there.  
>"E-England?" he stuttered. I simply put a finger to his lips before giving him a light peck on the lips.<br>"Yes America." I confirmed before bawling and pulling him in for a hug. He was too weak to even lift his arms around me, and too tired to speak. I sniffed and buried my head into his shoulder, letting crystal tears spill onto his shirt.  
>"P-Please...stop t-torturing yourself...i-i...it's not your fault!" I cried out and clasped him tighter; I didn't care if he soon saw what I was going through, with this bump now in front of me. The only thing that I felt when I held what might have been a corpse, was my heart shattering, something that could never be fully healed.<p>

France shot me a look of pity and rolled over a bit, so I could get in between them, holding America tighter. I don't know how much time passed before I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Canada, who made his presence completely unseen.  
>"I...don't know what went wrong." He stated quietly, I couldn't blame him, seeing his twin brother in this state. France sighed and cupped my cheek before heading over to my kitchen and finding whatever old vegetables he could use to make soup. I felt another pair of arms around my waist and something pressing into my back, only for it to be Canada, who was trying his best to comfort me, which was considerate. France only came back with a small bowl of soup and trying to persuade the American to eat.<br>"B-But, England , a-are you...well?" he stuttered. I nodded and sniffed.  
>"Y-Yes, please eat." I begged and sat upright, feeding him with the spoon, though being fed by someone you became independent from must be humiliating, he didn't show it. At least he ate the bowlful. I can't remember when I fell back to sleep, but all I remember was us all together on the couch, two strong nations holding us protectively. Like something I wished I had, family.<p>

The next world meeting was being held at my place, so I knew that being the host nation, I had to take matters into my own hands, and attend, with a jacket on at all times. Though I wasn't too sure about how many of them would take it, with me being away for three months and all. I groaned as I turned over in my bed to look at the time. 8:00!? Shit! This was very late! I didn't even have breakfast, I just rolled out of bed, got dressed,and rushed to the hall. I got the chairs set up, got the glasses of water filled, and made sure that everything was spick and span, coz I've a reputation to keep up! I ended up finishing everything an hour early, so at least I had time to do some stuff of my own, that's when I felt a kick. I was just getting a drink when I felt it, a single kick. I was so shocked I spilt some of my drink, but who cares? As long as I know it's healthy and alive, that's all I care! Another small kick. I smiled and put my hand where it kicked last. Even if everything else turns to shit, at least this will be the highlight of the day. A creaking sound brought me to attention as Canada and France slowly walked in, with America limping, supported by the two nations. At least America was looking slightly better today. I quickly covered up my bump with my jacket and rushed over.  
>"H-hey England." America smiled. He hadn't smiled for what seemed to be a very long time, so we all sat together sharing idle chat. Hungary and Seychelles were the next, sharing news about who was making out with who in a closet, that is until Romano paid them 50 bucks to not tell anyone, too late, we already knew. Then some of my former colonies, the Axis, and a few others. The meeting itself wasn't that interesting, and hardly anyone knew what to say because the meeting is usually taken up by a certain someone.<p>

_Sorry that this chapter is so short! I PROMISE to make some longer ones! ;~; anyway, I have been put under alot of life lately (people very close to me being hospitalised with life-threatening operations :( ) so I havn't been writing much lately. I know I should be writing more but with these issues it's quite hard, if you know what I mean. So here's to life everyone! *smashes beer on the ground* because life can sometimes be a real bitch! Anyway, please tell me what you think! It would make my day :) _


	4. Month 4

_And I'm back again. How are ya'll? I guess I owe you guys a big THANK YOU! (Hah hah, geddit? Big?) So this wouldn't have been possible without ya'll here with me :)Can I please have a Beta reader to go through this and touch up a few things? Pm or ask about it in a review, coz first one gets to be it! XD anyway, I should probably stop rambling and cut the chase XD also has Fem!New Zealand in! Hah hah! Storytime._

_Month four,_

I didn't ask for frog and the twins to stay in my house for the next few months, they just stayed anyway. I guess I have been a bit harsh on poor old France though, but it's still quite difficult to accept help from someone who a few months ago was your sworn enemy. Even stranger still with America moping around the house. At least he was getting better, he had gone back to his healthy glow and wasn't so thin, and the bags had all but gone beneath his eyes, and he had his usual attitude back again, but for once I was happy to have his self-centred ego back. I couldn't help but feel, well, thankful for them, putting up with me for a few weeks! At least France is the only one who knew about my growing issue.

I tried to get to sleep, but ended up just staring straight ahead at the wall, for, I dunno, hours? That is, until I felt an arm snake around my waist.  
>"FRANCE! How'd you get in here!?" I gasped and flinched away from his hand.<br>"Mi amour, you had trouble falling asleep, that's why I came in here!"  
>"But how did yo-" I was cut short as I realised he was sleeping in the bathroom ( not my fault! He insisted!) that was linked up to my bedroom. I sighed in defeat.<br>"Fine you win, stay if you want."  
>He only smiled and pulled me in for I hug in his strong arms. Hm. Kinda nice I'd say, pretty comforting. I just put an arm around him and closed my eyes, pretending that the one that was holding me in his arms, was America.<p>

I got up to find the warmth that was under my arm was now gone, and sunlight shone through the grey clouds like a light from Heaven. The curtains blew slightly against the open window and wind whistled through the broken fabric. I sighed and get out of bed, walking towards the window in breathing in the morning air. Small sounds of traffic rose up to meet my ears, and the cooing of pigeons as they flew past like grey streaks. The sound and smell of something cooking excited my nose, so I got dressed and headed to the kitchen, up few doors down from my room. Canada was cooking pancakes for France and America. He looked at me shyly and whispered a good-morning. America jumped up and gave me a hug, and by god he had gained TONS of weight! He gave a light laugh and begged me to sit next to him. I'm not sure if I was just me, but damn Canada could cook some pretty good brekky.

I knew I would have to tell them someday to go home, not because I didn't enjoy their company and care. But I guess I'm pretty lucky that Canada and America hadn't noticed yet, thanks to my collection of ski jackets. I hated to do it. But I had to. I faced America, who was leaning on my shoulder, and watching a movie on the couch.  
>"Hey America, thank you and the others for coming over, making sure I'm alright, but I'm fine now, so, do you, can you, please go home?"<br>He seemed slightly disappointed and hung his head a bit.  
>"A-are you sure you'll be fine?"<br>"Please, I'm worried more about you!"  
>He grinned and threw his head back, kissing me softly with chapped lips. I was slightly shocked and taken aback, but happy and joyful at the same time. That American sure knows how to make someone happy, not in a whore-sense though (sorry prostitutes!) He stared at me straight into the eyes with this cyan stare.<br>"One more night?"  
>"Yes."<p>

At least, the next morning, I woke up in America's arms. I snuggled closer to him and pecked his cheeks. He snorted and forced a kiss on my lips.  
>"Ah! Jeez, don't you know I dribble in my sleep!?" I pleaded.<br>"Nah, who cares?" He shrugged and gave me a nogie. I smiled as we gazed into each other's eyes. Cyan met lime, lime met cyan.  
>"We should get going." He frowned and crawled out of bed, getting dressed back into his usual clothes and heading out to the other nations. I sighed a bit in sadness, why'd the time pass so fast? It seemed so unfair! A stab of sadness pierced my heart as I looked out the window at the nations waving up at me, waving and smiling good-bye. I smiled painfully back at them as they waved down a bus. I knew me and America would probably not be able to see other again, like lovers, as if we get caught, the consequences would be disastrous. And a silent tear trickled down my cheek.<p>

Engrossed in a book, I didn't even think about checking my mailbox, until the next day, when I went to get my mail. A letter slipped out from the folds of the paper, and drifted to the concrete. I bent down and picked it up and read the address. It was from my once-sister-now-cousin. I sighed and hoped it wouldn't be another one of those "The weather here is so hot! Made eggs on the bonnet today!" letters sent from her in the middle of the summer, while it's the middle of fucking winter here. Damn the bloody Southern Hemisphere. Anyway, I opened it up and skimmed the handwriting messily scribbled on it. She knew I loved to be 'a refined and posh prick ' so she always hand-wrote me letters.

_Dear Arthur,_

_I'm kinda freaking out a bit, and dead guilty. So I was wondering, can I visit in a couple of days? I really have to talk to you. And can I have permission to kick France's lily white arse into the middle of next week? I still wanna kick the shit outta that fuckface's arse for bombing the Rainbow Warrior. He better be ready for the worse torture of his fucking pathetic little life!_

_Anyway, I'll be here at 9:00pm. See ya then cuz!_

_Signed, your worse cuzzie ever, Reka Kiriwai-Kirkland._

_P.S it has nothing to do with our bosses or politics, or snagging 5 bucks of ya for that matter._

From the way she didn't talk about what she was writing to me for, and changing subject to France, it must have been urgent. And she was arriving tonight! Shit! Why did she leave everything till the last minute!? And if she even noticed what had happened to me...I'd never hear the end if it!

_A couple of hours later,_

I heard the doorbell ring a few times, so I put on my green jacket and answered the door. There I saw my cousin, my favourite one, New Zealand at the door, she put on a cheerful face though the red lines from her eyes showed she had been crying recently.  
>"England? Urm, can I come in?" She tilted her head to the side a little.<br>"Oh, yes, sure." I covered up and moved aside, where she dumped her leather bags by the door. She strided over to the couch and flopped herself down, not bothering to take off her shoes.  
>"Okay, you said that there was a certain something that you had to tell me in your letter..." I hinted at her. She shrugged, jumped off the couch and headed for the fridge.<br>"Hm, got any beer?" She asked. I frowned at her, she could be a bit of a bitch at times. She looked up from where she was crouched. "I won't talk unless you let me have one of yer beers." She grumbled and toyed with a bottle in her fingers, slamming the fridge shut with her foot.  
>"Fine, fine, have a beer. What did you have to tell me?" I asked again, starting to get a bit annoyed at the Kiwi raiding my fridge and taking my good beer. Money doesn't grow on trees you know! She popped the cap and downed about a quarter of it before slamming the bottle down and wiping her mouth.<br>"As long as you don't tell Aussie." The brunette snarled. I nodded. She sat down on the couch opposite me and bit her lip. She looked like she was about to cry again. She closed her jade eyes and let a tear slip from her lashes.  
>"I had an abortion."<br>The words split through the air and caused everything to settle on an uncomfortable silence. She eyed my belly a few times and hung her head.  
>"With who?"<br>"Australia." She hung her head in her hands and cried.  
>"He-he, I knew he always wanted a son, but I didn't! I-I wasn't ready to have h-his kid yet! Heck, we've only been together for a couple of months, and I destroyed, everything!" She bawled, and downed some more beer. Looks like we're both on the same boat. I was a one night stand, her's was an abortion without her lovers consent. I didn't even know the two were in a relationship, let alone, well, need I say more? She sobbed a few more times and stroked the scar on her stomach.<br>"I killed. One more pair of lungs, th-that would never breathe. One m-more pair of eyes th-that would never see," She turned around and flopped on the couch, "One more heart that would never beat, and one more broken heart." She let the tears flow freely in streams down her face.  
>"Does Australia know?"<br>"No."  
>I frowned and sat next to her, stroking her tanned back. We may not be of the same blood, but she's...basically the only family I have, apart from my brothers. She sobbed and turned around, drinking the last of her beer and flinging the bottle to the ground. She stayed on the couch with me next to her. Many emotions channelled through me. Anger, rage, disappointment, yet pity, sadness, and grief for her. I gave her a hug before taking her bags up to the guest room, and making some tea and coffee. For a while we just sat across each other at the dinner table, not knowing what to say.<br>"It was a boy. Our son. That I killed." She murmured. She raised her head though and gazed at me.  
>"I am not my abortion. Remember that." She snarled in sadness. I nodded and sipped my tea.<br>"And you are also pregnant, I see."  
>I chocked on my tea and spilt a bit in the process. How the heck did she know!? It was hardly visible!<br>"H-How did you know!?"  
>"Hm, you eating chips with gravy at dinner, the bump underneath your jacket, bigger man tits, did you think I'm stupid?"<br>She had a good point there.  
>"America's? I presume? I know more about you then you know." She smirked in triumph.<br>"Don't tell anyone! And oh dear God, PLEASE don't tell Hungary!"  
>She giggled and leaned back before clicking her fingers and pointing pistol-fingers at me and giving a wink.<br>"I won't if you don't tell Aussie."  
>"Deal."<p>

The next few days were basically filled with idle chatter and beer, knowing her. She was a fine young women, carefree, happy, free as a bird, I could see why she killed it. She downed another bottle before stroking the jade koru that hung around her neck.  
>"You sure ya'll be alright?" She pressured and twirled her bottle.<br>"I'm sure." I retorted. She smiled slightly and got up, taking her large, leather case with her.  
>"Then I'll be off, plane leaves in a couple of hours." She stated before giving me a light peck and slipping something into my back pocket. And with that, she was gone. Someone who shared the same pain as me, someone I knew I could confide in, gone. I looked at her leave through my window and remembered the thing she slipped into my pocket. I tugged it out to find it was an envelope. I opened it and a greenstone koru fell out, as well as a tightly folded letter.<p>

_Dear England,_

_Thank you for letting me stay for a week, it's really kind of you to have guests coming over at a time like this, so I thought I'd thank you a bit. Where I come from, Koru represents new life and luck, I thought you'd need those two things. And thank you, for everything._

_-Reka Kiriwai-Kirkland, a.k.a; New Zealand._

A one hundred pound note also fell out and drifted to the ground. I smiled, I was gonna miss having her around. I was slightly envious though. How come she and Australia were allowed in relationships and their bosses are fine with it. It's so unfair! Me and America could be side by side right now, not caring what anyone else thought of us, in a happy relationship, a family, a few kids, all that taken from us, because of our bosses. Why? Why? WHY!? Life just seemed to hate us, and torture us every day by not letting us have our own lives, our own freedom. I just wanted to scream and destroy everything in sight. Life hates us, that why I even got pregnant in the first place! I clenched my right fist as hard as I could till the whites of my knuckles flared. A bright shine temporarily blinded me, the sun reflecting off a knife. That's what I needed right now. I walked over to the shining blade and picked it up, inspecting the fine edge with my fingers. I smiled and pressed it against the skin of my left wrist. Why didn't I think of this before? I grinned as crimson coated the silver edge and dribbled over my thumb. More. I pressed against another patch of skin below it, hearing a slight pop, scarlet rained down on the floor. I giggled. Another, another, and another. 5 long cuts along pale skin. That's when my vision started to go blurry, and the front door opened.  
>"Angleterre? Are you home?"<p>

_Woo, I gotta wrap this chappie up. Think of this as a little present, an extra long chappie. By the way, so sorry that I chose to gender-bend New Zealand! I just felt like doing it! Also the Koru around her neck, I have been wearing one, except made from bone, for the last 7 years, yes, it represents new life and luck, so I thought it would be nice to include one :) anyway, what will happen to our little friend? Till next time. _


	5. Month 5

_Here we go again. Deal with it. Something else for your enjoyment :) (Or should I say something to mess with the feels? Hm, dunno anymore) Here it is, and I'm not really supposed to be writing this due to the amount of homework I've been getting :( but here you go. Enjoy! It won't be long!_

_Trigger Warnings: cutting, death, suicide_

I landed with a thud on my back against the sink. But I didn't care if it hurt or not, all that mattered was that I was going to leave this world, have a better life, a happy ending.

"Angleterre? Are you there?"

Fuck, now France's gonna see me, and send me to hospital. Why couldn't he just leave me alone!? But four sets of feet glided down the hallway. Shit, now others had decided to tag along, at least I'll die with them around me. The slits on my pale wrist leaked with crimson and pooled on the floor. I smiled and let the darkness slip into my sight.

"England! Are you her-"America was cut short as he looked around the bathroom and saw me propped up against the sink, a pool of blood at my side.  
>"England!" He screeched and rushed to my side, picking up my wrist, I was too tired to lift it, and stared down, everything was blurry now, as I felt America hug me and call out to the others. I could make out the shapes of France, Canada, and New Zealand, all rushing towards me. I couldn't remember much, only that New Zealand had picked me up bridal style and was rushing me towards France's van and piling in. New Zealand had me in the back, my head on her lap, stroking my hair softly.<br>"It's gonna be okay," she sniffed, "you'll be fine, it's gonna be okay." She sobbed. It's gonna be okay!? I just want to die already, and here you are, trying to save my sorry arse!? Life is torture, and yet here you are saying it's going to be okay!? Life is cruel, and if I can't escape life, I'll welcome death.

I felt something soft encompass me, and I slowly opened my eyes, blinking in the warm light. That's when I realised I was kneeling in a cloud, with soft silver wings wrapped around me, and I could move them too. As my newly-acquired wings unfolded, I was welcomed to the sight of a gate, with an angel, that looked to be around twenty, reading a book and lazing on a cloud to the left of the gate.  
>"So you must be Arthur Kirkland, also known as England, am I right?" He inquired without turning his fire-red head. I nodded slowly before I came to my senses, I was at Heaven's gate.<p>

"And you committed suicide, right?" The angel pressured, I nodded once again, so he put down his book and flew over to me in a couple of wing beats with his snow wings.  
>"I'm George, I've been sent to you." He narrowed his piercing blue eyes and lifted his chin. Ha! He could never be as tall as me! At least I died. Oh that reminds me, the scars on my wrist. I turned over my wrist to see the scars bleeding slightly, though not as much as before.<p>

"Well, welcome to Heaven, that's all I can say really. Though I'll have to check with the boss, see if you are really welcome here." He drawled and swiftly turned away.  
>"You have committed many sins, despite being raised from the church. All those hundreds of years ago. You've been practicing black magic and witchcraft since you were born," He spat, "and you're a homosexual, and on top of that, you're impregnated! That accounts to many sins, too." That bastard, it's not my fault that I am who I am. So what I had a rough childhood, so what if I'm gay, so what if I have some victim of a one night stand with me, it's not his problem! He fanned out his wings and flew straight upwards, so I had to follow that bastard. I just had to admire that he even got control of these wings! God, you'd think it was easy, just jump into the air, and like that you'll be flying. Nope. I wobbled and dived a few times as I flew, and was I happy to see something that I could land on. I landed next to the bastard to see he was looking down off the edge, so I kneeled down and peered over. It was me, in a hospital bed, with New Zealand and France next to me, along with the twins, two holding my hands.<p>

"Why couldn't I just stay a little longer?" New Zealand sobbed, crystal tears flowing from her greenstone eyes.

"Ma Cherie, don't blame yourself, it's not your fault-"

"But it is!" She erupted, before crying out and sobbing into my chest. America was crying into Canada's shoulder, emitting short sniffs as Canada all but hugged him back. What had I done? I'd gone and done it without thinking of the consequences. I was selfish, selfish! I let a tear fall from my eyes, and stared up at George, who blinked and sighed.

"You can go back, if you want." He murmured, so faintly I had to strain my ears to read it.

"I-I…can go back?" I whispered to myself, through the tears. I turned to face him and gasped as he smiled maliciously, I turned back to see my wings turn midnight black, and crumble into little flakes that blew into the breeze.

"You'll have the pain of life to go through!" He barked before he pushed me off the cloud, but instead of falling, like I normally would, I was drifting.

"You really thought I would kill you? I'm just kidding with you. I'm a gay too; I'm surprised I even got up here in the first place!" He smiled and spread his wings wide apart, so the sunlight caught it, and instead of sparkling like glitter, they shone all the colours of the rainbow. He smiled and snapped his wings down, flinging himself into the air.

"Go enjoy your life!" He called out as he shimmered and disappeared into a swirling mass of rainbow coloured dust. I smiled. Because of him, I really had a change of opinion. I smiled as I leaned on my back and slowly drifted down, falling like a feather in the breeze.

I drifted down to the hospital gate, and even though it was closed, I walked through the bars. I could really get used to this. The leaves drifted right through me. Nobody seemed to see me, apart from a woman, whom I waved to and she fainted. And I didn't have this lovechild inside me, I wasn't sure if I should be happy or confused. I sighed and wafted right through the doors. Up to the room I was at. I had to float pass a teenage ward, so I walked through the aisles of the many beds, all had attempted suicide, and none could see me, but one. She smiled at me, so I smiled and waved to her too. The girl blinked in sadness and showed me her arms. All but her wrists were completely scarred, and some were still slightly bleeding. I bit my lip and looked at her name above the bed. Casey. She didn't deserve to be here, I sat down next to her on a chair beside her bed.

"Wh-who are you?" she whimpered. I stroked her black hair.  
>"I'm in the ward above you, though I'm dead." I simply stated. She nodded in understanding and looked upwards to the faint sounds of a woman crying along with many voices.<p>

"That you? Is that your wife?" She innocently asked. I chuckled.

"No, but she is beautiful. She's my cousin, Reka." I replied and laid down next to her. She smiled and drifted off to sleep. I looked upwards and floated up through the lino floor of the room. I was on my side, with a bunch of pillows, so Canada and America couldn't notice my bump. I took a long sigh and walked up to New Zealand, who was sobbing and crying, with France comforting her by rubbing her back in soft circles and whispering nothings into her hair. If he goes any further I swear to God I'll be turning around in my grave, if not for the current situation. America was crying with Canada in the corner of the room. I rested my hand on America's shoulder and kissed the top of his head. He flinched a bit before sobbing again. I stood in front of my body again and gazed down. France and New Zealand were each holding a hand, though the kiwi was busy crying into my chest, blaming herself. I laid down next to my body and took a deep breath before rolling over into the corpse. I, at once, gasped and sat bolt upright, clenching my chest and gasping for breath. The shocked faces of the nations before me were filled with surprise and wonder. Well I would be too if I was them.

"Y-You?! England!" New Zealand gasped and threw her arms around me. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry for leaving you! I'm sorry for leaving so soon!" She cried out.

"It's alright, it's not your fault." I murmured. France and the brothers just looked at me with awe, while poor little Canada just fainted; it was all too much for the little thing.

A doctor opened the door, only to see me alive and well. He stared at me with his mouth in an o shape and smiled. France hugged me and planted a few kisses on the cheeks.

"We…should get home, oui?"

_Sorry that this was so short! D: but school really messes things up XD oh well, enjoy, till next time._

_The past cannot be changed._


	6. Month 6

_BOO! Did I scare ya? Nah, probably not XD I'm back again, with month six, and man, life really seems to hate me at the moment, with all this studying at school (did you know that 'studying' is a contraction of 'student dying'?) I got 3P in maths last year, so why am I being put onto 4a!? I just don't geddit. (._.) Anyway, sorry for rambling about stuff, but here we go, another chapter, story time._

_Trigger warnings: Cutting, bleeding_

_Month six_

I didn't know what to expect from life anymore, so I decided to live every day, like it's my last. The doctor sent me a letter this morning. They said that because I'm male, I might end up dying, or have severe complications at birth, but I guess that's fate. So far, the hospital, France, probably Canada, and New Zealand know what I'm going through, and have been just so supportive, I'm pretty surprised that they actually chose to help, especially Reka, she used to hate me for a while, but we're on good terms, though it's a pity she's not my sister after she declared independence. She went home today, she said she's going to put her past behind, and continue. I think I should do the same. It sounds pretty good to me.

I walked slowly through the park, and looked at my watch. 6:23 am. Good timing, even if I say so myself. I couldn't go out allot due to you-know-what, so I took a morning walk every day in the early hours of dawn. It was nearing winter, and the sky was still slightly black, but light enough. The leaves turned chocolate brown and crinkled underneath my shoes, and my breath came out in little wafts. At least I could see the sunrise clearly at this time of morning. A small slope at the foot of a field seemed like a good place to see it. Anytime soon. I sighed and sat down on the grass, I didn't care a bit if I got myself a bit wet. I rested my arm on my bump and felt it kick again, I smiled and rubbed the spot where my son or daughter kicked. Then the first rays of sunlight broke the dawn, just above the horizon, casting shadows from buildings over the city.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A voice not that far from me spoke up. I nearly jumped at the voice, it was feminine, cold, and sad. The speaker was in a cloak with a beanie hiding dusty brown hair, and wet blue eyes.

"You look like you have...a family." She spat and turned away; she sniffed a bit and buried her face in her knees. I could tell she was crying. I couldn't help but have the urge just to comfort her. Bloody motherly instinct, but for once, it was helping. I shuffled over next to her, not knowing what to do, why are girls so hard to read? I couldn't help but feel pity for her though. I gingerly rubbed her back and she only sobbed harder, the poor thing.

"Why're you crying?" I asked softly.

"I was, d-dumped." She sniffed. "That prick never did any good!" She snarled. Now I wasn't sure if I should back off, or stay, I chose the latter.

"H-He, only liked my body. It was for two fucking years! I thought he loved me! But no, he thought he could play the skank, sleep then dump! Now I have some fucking kid I don't even want." She growled through the tears. "I suppose you have a family." She muttered darkly.

"I-I was a one night stand actually. And I'm male." I sighed. She looked up at me in surprise, having thought I was a woman this whole time.

"I-I-I'm sorry! I just thought you were-"

"It's okay. I wish I could have one though. But because I can't have families with others like me, I can't. Only my friends and family know, I'm kinda surprised they actually decided to help me out." I poured out. She only put on a look of guilt.

"Sorry for judging you." She muttered, "Looks like we're on the same boat. Though I can't decide if I should keep it, or kill it. What do you think's better?"

Wow, somebody I only just met, confiding something to me so personal. I have to help her, don't I?

"My cousin aborted hers, without her boyfriend's permission. She's wracked with guilt. And me, I'm keeping mine, though it'll be adopted."

She nodded slightly.

"I'm keeping it then. I ain't a murderer," She stood up and smiled at me, her hair blowing in the breeze. "Thank you. You really helped out a lot." She smiled and walked off. Just like that, so I smiled and waved a good-bye to her as well. I looked ahead and smiled. The sunrise was beautiful that day, the most beautiful I'd ever seen it.

I got home to find France up and at it, cooking blueberry pancakes with Canada.  
>"Good morning Angleterre!" France greeted and planted a peck on my cheek.<p>

Since they weren't gonna leave anytime soon, and when I finally got them outta the house, they just come back again after five minutes saying how much they were worried about me, I decided they could stay, only till this thing was born. I'd grown used to the frog's kisses, he wasn't going to stop anytime soon, though I wish he would, and Canada was sweet as well, giving me hugs and little things like that.

I couldn't understand, how two twin brothers, born at exactly the same time, could be so different? I mean, come on, you've got to notice. With America always loud and obnoxious and always fidgety, and Canada being so quiet and hardly being noticed at all, you would think they'd come from two different planets (Well Canada did, being raised by France and all) America had to go off a week ago, with something about the economy or something useless like that, so I was stuck with these two. Don't get me wrong, they are very nice people, but sometimes, I… urm… just don't feel like having company all the time, being a bloody island country and all that shit. But sometimes, they're some of the closet family I have. France, America, Canada and New Zealand are kind of my only family.

Moonlight filtered through my window, as me, France, and Canada were just sitting around, doing nothing much, just in each other's company. I'm sure that France and Canada love each other to death, just afraid to show it, because of what our bosses say. My boss is already disappointed and slightly angry with me when I told him I was pregnant, so was America's boss, they both said that I should be ashamed of myself, but is there shame in bringing love and life into this world? I'm not sure anymore. Now, the room had a sort of sad feel to it, like something that was dying to be said but never whispered. France pulled his Canadian friend in for a hug, as a little display of affection before he sighed.

"I love Canada too, but we can never be together. Maybe in the future, we might. But for now, we cannot be together because of words. Who says that love has no boundaries?"

I had to agree with those words. Canada snuggled a bit closer till he had his head buried in France's chest. At least, I'm not the only one, living with this pain. If love has no boundaries, why are we bound to the words of others? Words that cause pain, and grief, and loss. Broken hearts and children, without the knowledge of who their real parents are.

I'm now in a bit of a dilemma here, I'm not sure now what to do, tell America, or leave it be? Because, he is the father, shouldn't he have a right to know? But then he would want us to raise it together, and that could never happen. I'm really stumped right now. Tell him, or not tell him? God, I hate choices.

I looked at the scars on my wrist, why couldn't I just stay dead? I wish I did. I stared outside my window to see the sun setting on the horizon. So wonderful, yet so sad. Something as beautiful as the sun, simply sinking into the sea, for some, it's the last thing they see before they die, for some, it's the first thing they see as the world welcomes them.

People say that scars fade away; at least they do with time, but the memories of how you got them never do. I flung back my head as I drove a piece of glass into my thigh. I swore I would never do it again, but the pain is addictive, like a drug really. I drove the green shard deeper and smiled as warm crimson blood leaked from the wound, I looked at the handiwork I'd done. Two deep, red incisions made their mark on pale skin. Another. This time I drove it even deeper than before and twisted it all the way around. It hurt, but not as much as the pain I got from not seeing my love. Three lines, three sins, three cuts that hold one memory deep with the last drop of blood that spills from them, one memory that keeps me going, and makes me give up at the same time, one memory that burns like the fires of hell, yet heals like the touch of a god, one memory, that is what's left of me after I gave up my body on that night. One more scar, on pale skin, and one more drop of blood, that didn't need to be shed.

And one more heart, that didn't need to be broken.

_Sorry if the feels paid you a visit. watch?v=twhLIqtPVGUfor the full effect. So sorry if I made you upset! ;~; I know I suck at these kinda things but I'm doing this for fun, please tell me if I went alright. Till next time._


	7. Month 7

_Hi again! I'd love to give a shout-out to PrincessShorty3 for beta-ing this story! She's also a really good writer, so check her page out sometime! :D anyway, sadly, I'm not writing that much because school just loves to pile me up with homework,- hey, all I can say is I hate maths, and maths hates me- so I only get the chance to write more fiction in the mornings, at three o'clock XD yeah, now that's outta the way, story time! You guys rock!_

_Month seven_

The hot shower water cascaded down my body, stinging the fresh wounds on my thigh. I grit my teeth and tried to bear it, but with three gaping wounds on my thigh, it's pretty hard to ignore. Soon it all became too much, so I slammed down the shower lever and stumbled out. I bit my lip until a metallic taste filled my mouth. For some reason, blood has something about it, it tastes bad, yet so addictive, like the cuts over my body. I knew I should've stopped ages ago, so my unborn child wouldn't have blood loss, and die as soon as it's born, but...I can't stop. No matter how much I try, I can't stop. A silent tear streamed down my face, splicing with the crimson on my lip. I had to stop, I needed to stop. Yet I couldn't. I needed help, and fast.

I picked up the phone and sucked my lip slightly.

"F-France? Is that you?" I squeaked into the receiver,

"Oui, mi amour what is it?" He casually retorted.

Now how was I gonna say it? Tell him I'm mentally unstable? Tell him to send a doctor? I'm not sure.

"I-I...I-y-you should come over." I mentally face-palmed myself. Idiot.

"You mean right now?"

"Yes, right now would be good." I sighed and hung up before he could answer. Dear god, I hoped he would. I laid back on the bathroom floor, in a small puddle of my own blood. This had to be unhealthy, a sick, twisted obsession of mine that I wouldn't let go of. I pressed my head against the wood of the cabinet and cried. Why did I keep doing this to myself!? That is, until something brushed against my shoulder. A hand, a ghostly hand. No, it can't be, it must be of blood loss or something similar. It was the girl with the cuts, Casey.

"W-What are you doing here?" I gasped, staring at the girl in confusion. She frowned and showed her wrists, they had fresh cuts all over them, and still bleed slightly with her pale figure that wavered slightly in the breeze.

"I died," She stated like it was normal, "but I wasn't ready yet. I knew you would try to die again, so I decided to pay a visit and, well, here I am." She shrugged and sat down to my left.

"Why did you come back?" I mustered up the courage to ask her that question. She frowned and ran her hand along the cuts, bruises, and scars running along my arms.

"To help you." She whispered, "If you don't stop, you will end up like me, forever."  
>Now I was at a loss for words. I am a nation, immortal, but I can still die, but be reborn, into a different body with no memory of who I was. She's right, I do have to stop, and that's exactly why I even bothered calling France. She looked up at me, tears blurring her vision as she looked up and a pair of silver wings erupted and spread forth from her back, catching little sparkles and glimmering in the dim light in the room. She turned back with a sorrowful look on her face, a tear forming a river down her face before gliding to an open window.<p>

"It's too late for me, but it's not too late for you." She stated and spread her glorious wings upwards and soared out the window, spiraling up into the clouds freely a falling leaf. A knock at the door brought me to attention. I rolled down my sleeves and opened the old oak door. France was standing there, with a concerned look plastered to his face.

"We need to talk."

France saw the scars and the cuts, and everything. He only seemed sad and disappointed. I however, just hung my head in shame,

"Did you pour Dettol in them?" he asked. I shook my head, I knew that this was gonna hurt like hell. Within a few minutes I was in the bathroom biting into a towel as disinfectant was being poured down my back, coating skin in a yellowish film and filling up those marks.

"How did you even get them on your back?"

"Mirror..." I gasped, "I fell on it the other day, bloody bathmat." and bit down harder. He only nodded once.

"So you only cut nearly every part of skin you could reach, though not your child?"

"Why would I?"

France frowned and used the end of the towel to rub the liquid in deeper. Fuck it hurt like hell! He might as well be embedding knives in my back.

"H-How's America?" I breathed through the pain. France brightened up a bit at that.

"He's doing really well, being back to normal at last. Mi amour, don't let him see the scars or the cuts though, or he'll start it up again!"

Well, at least he was doing well. France shifted his position so he in front of me with the Dettol-soaked towel. I felt a little nudge around my bump.

"Mi amour it's kicking!" France gasped and immediately placed his hand over that spot, before moving my hand there. That's strange, it hadn't kicked in a long time, probably because of my depression, but I'm not sure why it started to kick now though. I smiled, something I hadn't done truthfully in a long time. Two more months, and I'll be able to see, hear, and feel this son or daughter that's inside me soon. I swear that the silver lining on the grey cloud above my head was brighter that day.

When I woke up, I had a pair of strong arms around me, and at once I knew it was France.

"FRANCE!? What the fuck!?" I jumped up and exclaimed, though he only pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Mi amour, you were shivering late at night and crying, so I came into your bed."

Damn it, France, always good at coming up with excuses, it was humiliating, having your worst enemy acting all friendly, or was it frenemy? Hm, I'm not sure now about frog.

"Well then, can you at least stop trying to break my ribs?" I was getting pretty bloody irate right now.

"Ma Cherie, why?" He said and pecked my cheek.

"I'M NOT TRYING TO FLIRT, FROG!" I cried out and turned the other way, he sure knows how to press all the right buttons, and boy, he sure knows how to get me pissed. It's not my fault I still get nightmares! Heck I'm only 23! Well, not really, I'm over 600 years old but, that's my human age! That must count! Anyway, he wasn't going to leave, so I just let him be.

_Sorry that I hadn't updated in so long! But I'm back! I'm not dead yet! XD anyway, I have run into a bit of a dilemma there and then, but I'm not dead yet! Till next time my lovelies!_


	8. Month 8

_Sorry guys for the hold-up! But all that matters is that I'm back, (about time too!) Heh heh, once again, sorry for the hold up, but everything just loves to get in mah way :( (by the way, Canada's boss is in no way the way he is in my story, this is just fiction, so none of it is true, sorry to anyone who took offense ;~;) Anyway, a BIG thank you to PrincessShorty3, for doing her best to Beta this story! Story time! :D_

_Month eight_

I sighed as morning light started to seep in through my fluttering curtains. For some reason, rolling marbles off my larger than life belly is a lot more fun than it sounds. It gave a little 'tink' as it fell to the floor, and rolled across the wooden floorboards. I'd already gotten 'prepared' in case if it came in the middle of the night, like what happened to one of my friends, though it gets kinda annoying. And a few things are on my mind, will it be a natural birth? Or a C-section. I'm not too sure, heck I'm not even sure how I got pregnant in the first place! But I did, though I think I need to get myself checked, someday.

Wouldn't you know, the cravings came back again. So another tuna, honey, and chip sandwich for me today. Yum-o, not. As if grapes and mustard weren't bad enough! Canada didn't show it, but I found out that he knew a when I hit the end of my first month, I wonder how him and Canada are doing right now, I hope that they are doing alright. Didn't France say that he and Canada could never be together because of words? Like me and America? Well, I feel for them.

I traced the scars on my arms, as they ran across my skin, snaking over my veins. Why had I done this to myself? That reminds me, my child hasn't been kicking as much, yet kept on kicking whenever someone else was with me, France mostly. Speaking of France, a loud knocking was at my door, and by the way the knuckles sounded against wood, it was him, again, though something was different. I got up with a slightly grunt and waddled to the door, opening it slightly, just to keep my massive stomach away from view. France smiled, with Canada leaning on his shoulder.

"Can we come in? Ma Cherie?" He asked, tilting his blond head slightly.

"Oh, um, yes." I stammered and opened the door till it was wide open. Canada certainly seemed quite pleased, not sure why though, though that bear of his kept on snuggling up to his chest.

"Anyone want anything? I've got coffee and tea, anyone?" I asked.

"Non, I'm fine." France brushed off. Canada only shook his head a couple of times.

"I-can...we stay, until your baby is born? I'm guessing it's really soon." Canada shyly whispered. I placed a hand on my stomach instinctively, and felt a small kick.

"It's kicking." I murmured, and I guess I shouldn't have said that because then they got interested.

"C-can I feel?" Canada blushed and shied away.

"I don't see why not." I smiled as he leaned over and gingerly placed a gloved hand where mine was.

"H-He's a strong one for sure!" He stammered sweetly, and pressed his ear against it. And to think I didn't notice him for a while then.

_A few days later_

_It was just me and France now because Canada had to go back home. Something about his boss calling him back, so it's just me and Frenchie. I couldn't go outside?"_

_Canada took another breath. It was only a sentence, right?_

_"I-I...I'm pregnant." He whispered, the words hardly audible. His boss stiffened slightly before slumping over a little._

_"First England, now you." He sighed, a mix of confusion, worry, and anxiety in his eyes. "I'll have to see with my ministers." He finished before standing up and walking into another room, closed off from the worrying nation. He could hear a few raised voices, and he knew the outcome couldn't be good from the way they were talking. A few minutes later, his boss emerged from behind him, looking very forlorn._

_"I'm sorry." He stated, "You have to abort it."_

_Words. As powerful as bombs. An entire wave of sorrow crashed on the nation, till he was slowly drowning in sadness._

_"A-Abort it?" He stammered and held a hand over his mouth, tears slipping through his eyelashes and spilling over his cheeks._

_"I'm sorry. But it's for the best."_

Evening traffic filtered through my window, in the late hours of night. I couldn't fall asleep, as something didn't feel that right. I stared outside, at this beautiful city. The full moon shone down on the Thames, and starlight flickered in the midnight sky there and then. Beautiful. That's when I felt the contractions begin, I groaned and doubled over, so much pain, shit, where was France when you needed him!?

_Sorry that this chapter is so short, but this and a few more chapters from other fics are just the result of a Fanfiction Marathon, and is the result of 9 hours of writing! Phew! :) Anyway, so next is month nine! And the moment ya'll been waiting for! Another BIG shout-out to everyone who read till here, and to PrincessShorty3, for her endless effort in beta-ing so fast! :D till next time!_


	9. Month 9, and good-bye

_Hey guys and thanks for sticking with me. By the way, I've never seen an actual birth before, I've only seen the ones in movies so I'm not sure if I got the whole birth scene right sorry! This is the final chapter, and because of that, this one is gonna be extra-long! Yay! Also, 50 points for whoever guessed the father of Canada's baby, the answer is halfway through! I just want to say thank you to PrincessShorty3, for putting up with me through those long delays (thank you!) And to you, because this has been an awesome ride, and it couldn't have been done without you all! Story time, for the last time._

Pain, and lots of it. I whimpered and bit my lip as I felt my water break. My legs buckled beneath me as I gripped the window sill, so tightly my knuckled flared white. "France?" I murmured painfully during grit teeth. I let out a wail as small tears slipped from my eyes. Please let him hear me!

"Oui chérie?" France poked his head around the corner with Canada, who looked a bit fearful. It only took them a few seconds to realise the current situation.

"Shit! Don't just stand there!" I gasped and sprawled on the bed. I had no idea how this was gonna work, but I'm pretty sure I needed a caesarean, (because it wasn't natural for a male to reproduce, but I'm a nation, so it happens anyway) I groaned and curled up in a ball. I couldn't really hear anything that much, because my vision started to get blurry, all I remember is that France had scooped me up, and was rushing me out the door with Canada finding the car keys frantically.

"Just breathe! Please!" France pleaded me as I began to black out in his arms. Slowly, I began to dream.

_Flashback, 1014_

_Third person P.O.V_

"_Can't catch me!" Ireland giggled as he ran across a highland moor, the evening sun boring down on him and his brothers, the long grass and wheat blowing softly, little golden seeds catching sunlight and drifting across the field, down to a lake that was tranquil, and reflected the sun's rays. His brother, Wales laughed and ran after him. They were still very short, being just kids, but they could run, real fast._

_"Hey! Let me join in too!" Scotland complained and raced after his brothers. While the youngest, England, was just watching on, sitting in the grass petting a honey brown rabbit with long ears._

_"Aw come on England! You're no fun! Why don't you play with us?" Scotland called out and paced up to him, grabbing his tiny hand._

_"But you're too fast! And I'm slow!" He excused._

_"That ain't an excuse! C'mon, it's easy!" He encouraged and began to jog slowly with his sibling._

_"But I can't!" England wailed harder. Scotland had nearly had enough of his brother's excuses._

_"You telling me you can't run? Well it's easy, the more you breathe, the faster you run!" The Scot stated with a smile, pushing his sibling forward to the other Celtic nations a while ahead of him._

_"Just breathe! It'll be over soon! Just breathe! Breathe! Breathe!"_

I woke up with a jolt of pain, and grit my teeth as a bolt of pain rippled through me. I was in the back of my shitty car, with my head resting against France's lap. My vision was already blurry, and I knew I would probably pass out again. I couldn't remember that much, only which France and Canada were running, carrying me to the hospital entrance. Calling out for somebody to help us. Doctors coming and trying their best I'm sure, injecting me with a pain killer, though I didn't notice it until I felt really sleepy, as I was on an operating table. I wailed again, my throat started to feel raw from all the tears and screams. It's strange really, I felt the knife cut me open, yet I felt no pain. I felt confused at first, as another cry filled the room, not my own. I looked over at the nurses as one of them held a bawling, blood-covered, baby boy in her gloved hands.

"Congratulations, it's a boy!" She cheered. I bit my lip, threw back my head, and cried a little, not because the painkiller was wearing off, but it hurt, inside if you know what I mean. Seeing such a gorgeous son, and giving him up, I feel worse than low. I just want to scream, cry, rake my nails down concrete walls, and slowly fade away, never to be seen again… but even if I did, nobody wouldn't see me. No one would've heard me. My son, my own beautiful son, how could I do this to him? I just feel like dying.

I lazily fluttered my eyes open, as a crying sound filled my ear. Huh? I thought I'd done crying ages ago! I snapped off the sheet, to find two, large, stitched up wounds on my belly. It was gone, at last! I looked over to see France asleep in a chair next to me on my right, I leaned over and peeked at his watch. 3:15 am!? Shit. I felt something brush against my hand, and turned to see Canada cradling my son in his arms.

"C-Canada?" I stuttered.

"He's really beautiful, you know." He whispered sweetly and kissed the top of the baby's head. I stared at him long and hard, you know that feeling, when something is hiding from you, but you have no idea what? That kinda feeling seemed to waft in the air. That's when I noticed the red lines around Canada's cheeks.

"Canada," I started and sat up, "are you okay?"

He looked up at me and bit his lip. "No." he whispered, though I had to strain my ears to hear it.

"Why? Something happen when you were away?" I pressured the poor Canadian, but I'm sure he was dying to say something but just couldn't. He sighed deeply and handed me the baby. He sighed before speaking.

"I was going to have a child too." He started, "I-I was also pregnant, for a short time. Somebody suspected and told my boss that I had to tell him something. So I had to leave. When I…I told him, he s-said I have t-to k-k-kill it." He stammered and buried his head in his hands, sniffing every now and then.

"I murdered a defenseless child!" He gasped and hugged his knees tightly, crying into his jeans. Jeez, he had to go through an abortion? The image of my once proud cousin, New Zealand, flashed in my mind when he said that, completely broken, depressed, crying herself to sleep with all guilt she harbored. I never wanted Canada to go through such a thing, not once, not ever. The broken nation looked up at France with tear-stained eyes.

"F-France is the father, i-if you w-would like to kn-know." He stammered. I held my son against my chest, I couldn't help, but think of America right now, what would he think? Would he be happy, that he has a son, his own flesh and blood, or disappointed, from hiding it from him? I stared at him directly in the eyes. He had thin brows (thankfully) that were slightly thick at the top, and his father's eyes, sea-blue, beautiful, sea-blue eyes. I leant over and gave the grieving nation next to me a hug, in comfort. I loved my son, how could I say goodbye?

I decided to name him Peter. His nation name though, was a different story. I was stuck for a bit on that one before I finally settled on Sealand. I know he would be just outside my waters and that it would be very rare for his nation to be under attack and all that. I knew I had to take him to the nation, before he was old enough to remember who his father truly was. I picked up the phone and called a number, to someone I knew who lived on the tiny nation.

I was on a boat, with France and Canada, for support, I wasn't strong enough to give him up myself, and I'm not that strong. It was getting late, around sunset, with the sky a brilliant orange. I had Peter cradled in my arms, holding him as tightly as I could, as I was not sure if it would be the last time I got a chance to ever hold him again. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, we're in this together." Canada murmured with a soft smile. I stared down at Peter. He looks so much like his father, same eyes, hair; I could tell they shared the same free spirit, just from looking at him. I wish I could tell America, he would've been proud I'm sure. When Peter was born, I died inside a bit you could say. No one in Sealand, as they made a promise, was allowed to tell him who his parents were. I held the nation closer, as the sun slowly sunk into the sea.

The small fishing boat we were in was chugging along slightly as we came to a concrete pillar with a ladder, wrapped with grip tape. Canada took a rope and skilfully tied the small boat up to the side of the metal ladder.

"Who wants to go up? I can take the baby if you want." Canada suggested. I started this, and I should finish it.

"I'll go up." I stated, with Sealand in a little contraption we thought up, practically a bag, closed up at the sides, with a few carabineers on it, so I can just connect it to the bars, a few at a time, clever huh? I started to climb, nice and slow, I wanted this to last as long as I could. A few bars at a time, pull up Sealand. Few bars at a time, pull up Sealand, who was sleeping peacefully. I sighed and looked down, where the nations below me were smiling in encouragement. I just remembered, I never got the chance to tell then thank you, for everything.

I scrambled over the side of the concrete platform, dragging Peter with me. He seemed fine enough, so I leaned over the edge slightly and waved to the nations. This is it, a final good-bye. I wiped a stray tear from my eyes as the last sliver of light caught the horizon, basking the sea in all its glory. I had to be strong now, there's no turning back. I took a quick breath, cradled Sealand, and dragged myself over to the front door. Nearly at once someone answered.

"England?" She stated, raising an eyebrow as she looked at what I was carrying in my arms.

"Please, look after him." I sniffed, and wiped the tears that were flowing freely down my face with a sleeve, "I c-can't"

She took on a look of pity and outstretched her hands.

"We will, you can trust us. He'll be part of our family." She murmured into my ear. I nodded and handed him to her.

"His name is Peter, otherwise the micro nation of Sealand. Please just keep him safe and don't tell anyone." I pleaded, please oh _please_ understand! She nodded and wrapped her arms around me.

"Goodbye," She stated. I smiled weakly and turned around to leave this place.  
>"You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." She whispered as she closed the doors.<p>

The wind whipped my hair as I looked back from the boat, staring at the small nation, drenched in warm orange light. Sea-spray filled my head, and stung my eyes. I didn't care. He now had more of a life than I could never give him. I hung my head a little, remembering when America became independent, all that pain, losing someone special to you, it all came back. It hurt so much that I swear I could feel my heart cleaving in two. They say, once you've let go once, you can let go twice. I can't let go, I just can't! I noticed the scars on my wrist,

Those ones will fade after time,

The ones on my heart will never,

Goodbye, my son… may we meet again in years to come.

Goodbye.

_Epilogue,_

_Present day, 2014-03-12_

The knife by my bed glinted softly in the moonlight. Why? Why did things have to be this way? I picked it up, inspecting its fine blade, with dried blood caked on the side. I stared at my arm. Lightly etched in it, was, the word 'Victim'. I was a victim of life, or should I say everything? The anniversary of that day is tomorrow, a day I've been dreading all year, as well as the day of a world meeting. Maybe it was time to turn this all around? I rubbed the white scratches off my arm, took the knife, and started etching a word, just deeper. It said, 'Hope'. Hope that life wouldn't give up on me, hope that I would see my son, and tell him the truth. Hope that _I_ get a better ending.

_World meeting_

I settled down in a seat next to France and Canada, watching Sealand from across the table. Watching him brought a small smile to my face, he was so much like his father, determined, free-spirited, always with a smile on his face, and I was surprised that none of the other nations saw the resemblance yet.

"Hey dude, you're so tiny? How can ya be a country?!" America teased as he poked Sealand with a pen.

"I have a huge heart! I can be a nation!" He retorted, his sea-blue eyes gleaming. Sadly, he also inherited my knack for retorting. the rest of the meeting went by in record time, but the funny thing was, even though this is the anniversary of the day I gave up my only chance of ever having a family of my own, I was happy. I was happy that I have such a wonderful son, one that I was happy to call my own pride and joy. I also noticed, under the table, that Australia and New Zealand were holding hands the entire time, and she was looking a bit large around her belly. At least she was happy, like me.

The conference ended at around 1 pm, and I debated in my head about whether it was time to tell Sealand who his parents were. I'm not sure all about it though, because Sweden and Finland adopted him a few years ago. I'm not sure if they would be entirely...pleased with Sealand knowing who his birth parent is. I stayed a bit later, writing down a few more notes in my notebook, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sweden and Finland with Sealand. They were all in one big embrace at the front door, they gave him more of a family then I ever did, that's when I got an idea. I pulled out a sheet of paper, and started to write. Quickly, since there wasn't much time left.

_Dear Sealand,_

_As you probably know, you mustn't be sure of who your real parents are. And I'm not sure if you really want to know, after you now have two loving fathers looking after you. They are more of a family then I could ever give you. However, I still care for you, I grew up with a cold family, and it makes me smile that you have more than I have. I still love you, I'll look out for you, Sealand._

_Anyway, please don't be angry with me, but your true parents are America and I. I was the victim of a one night stand, I got pregnant, and you are the result. The following months were hard, and only a couple of other nations knew about my secret. Not even America knows, so please do not tell him. I'd appreciate it. I had committed suicide in those months, I'm surprised you were still alive after I was brought back. I knew you were always a fighter, from the start. And I'm happy to say, though you aren't in my care, I'm proud to call you my son, you are my pride and joy. I wish you many more years as a nation, not matter how small. Good luck, I'll always be proud of you._

_-England_

I read it over quickly, it was good enough. I ran through the hallways purposely, with a plan in my head.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed as I ran into Sealand, taking the chance to slip it into his pocket. I kept on running across the road, and I may seem childish, but I couldn't leave without knowing if he got the letter or not. I saw a tree, slightly hanging over the road, so I climbed till I was perched on a limb, with my arms and legs wrapped round the rough, grey bark, so I could look directly into their car. Yes, yes, yes, Sealand was going through his pockets, and he pulled out the letter, and started to read it. I smiled, yes, this was going as planned, as I saw him read till the end, eyes darting over the page. He seemed a little shocked, but he grinned and looked outside, where he saw me up in the tree. I didn't know, but a few tears were streaming down my face, in happiness. Sealand smiled back at me, and slipped it into his pocket as the car sped off in a blow of dust. I waited till they were gone, away from sight, as I jumped down from the tree, spinning and laughing like a fool in the middle of the park, laughing like there was no tomorrow.

I walked back to the conference room later in the day, it was deathly quiet, a great place to think things over. I smiled, and pulled out my old knife, I carved a single word in the door.

Hope.

Hope,

One thing,

That was always there for me,

Sometimes, I felt it had vanished,

But it was there all along.

Through merciless hell, I found it,

Hope.

_Author's Note and Acknowledgement: I can't count how many times I re-wrote this ending, it's getting ridiculous :p and how many times I've put Time (by Hans Zimmer) on repeat when writing this, y'know, at 3 in the morning, because I get an idea, and I can't go back to sleep without writing it down. Anyway, this has to be the most, well, how should I put this, personal thing I've ever written, and is the one I'm most proud of. It's kinda personal because in the some of the chapters, I've been through what England was going through, and lots of his feelings I got from I own during that time, however I'm a generally happy, bubbly, random person now ^^ , (and I mean I don't have depression and haven't cut for about two years now, thanks to my friends!) and I made it, so it was emotional for me to write, and it also, well, I have no idea how to put this, happy, that I made it through and that the scars of the past have faded. I just put this there to let you all know that the emotions in this fic are-were- my own._

_Well, it's done, it's finally done! Sorry if I made ya'll cry more than once, I really am! (Or if I bored you to tears XD) anyway, a HUGE shout out to, once again, PrincessShorty3, for putting up with me XD and to you, dear reader, for making it up to here! Sorry that this is extra-long, but I gotta give you guys an ending that will keep you entertained ;) anyway, this is our final good-bye, so wish you well, and hopefully, I'll be seeing you again! :)_

_Thank you!_

_This is Rekafern, over and out._

"_Have no regrets, no take-backs, because the past cannot be changed. Instead, look forward, and put your past behind you."_

_-Anonymous_


End file.
